


A Terrible Fortress

by Kov_SR



Series: Minecraft One-Shots [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: And During a Writing Marathon, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Nether Update, The Nether (Minecraft)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:15:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kov_SR/pseuds/Kov_SR
Summary: Ever since the Nether had warped into something unrecognizable, the abandoned citadels had gotten much harder to find.What a pity that they are still as empty and terrible as ever.
Series: Minecraft One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867576
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	A Terrible Fortress

**Author's Note:**

> This was the last story I wrote on the writing marathon before I ran out of steam and actually had to do a thing called sleeping. Enjoy!

The player stares up at the structure that juts out of the hellscape with interest, and – despite her jaded attitude towards achievements – a sense of accomplishment. Ever since the Nether had warped into something nearly unrecognizable, the abandoned citadels had gotten much harder to find.

The player begins to materialize cobblestone beneath her in an attempt to reach the bridge – if she gets shot at by any of the Nether’s less hospitable inhabitants, at least her bridge will be intact, she thinks wryly to herself. She manages to stay unnoticed her whole way up to the bridge, and she has learned a long time ago to never question why – she simply thanks the game that it has allowed her a reprieve from the violence of the perpetually bleeding dimension.

As she nears the entrance to the fortress, she hears a faint rustle of withered bones against brick. The place is empty, she thinks, more emotionally so than physically – its inhabitants stay, even if they are nothing more than a pile of blackened bones destined to kill everything they touch. She wonders what they had been in their previous lives, before they had withered away to walking skeletons forever guarding their military bases, scattered across the Nether, seeming to be the remnants of a once-great civilization.

The empty feeling for the walking dead of the fortress increases with her warring curiosity, but the player knows both will get her killed, so she simply shoves aside her thoughts to focus on her real objective in the fortress: _Blaze Rods_.

The rod of a blaze is useful for many things, most chiefly blaze powder. While it can be used in brewing potions, that comes secondary to the real treasure of blaze powder: When combined with the eye of an Enderman, the iris would open and guide her towards a portal of the End of the world, where the Dragon awaited to continue their endless battle.

The player is beyond asking why she must fight the same battle hundreds, thousands, millions of times, only to be reborn in yet another world that is the same but completely different. Questions get her nowhere. Questions can get her killed, if they pique her curiosity enough to drive her to do something stupid.

Shoving the thoughts out of her mind, the player forges onward to find the blaze spawner. She is a veteran of millions of years of this same old game, so she places a cauldron with some water in it, just in case she has to put out any fires on her – the cauldron’s iron from her world seems to be what causes the water to maintain its shape, she observes. It’s the same with buckets: The moment the water leaves the iron of the bucket, it evaporates. Although it is a curious phenomenon, it is not something she can ponder. Research takes her off the path to End the world, and straying from that path is not something she can do.

At first, she has to get re-used to the intense heat of the blaze spawner: Yes, the Nether is normally hot and often leaves her with burns all over the unprotected parts of her body if her armor breaks, but the blaze spawner feels like she’s up next to the surface of the sun. The spawner is an active, malevolent presence, and it wants her dead before she can steal the rods from its beloved children.

The blazes that materialize to celebrate the player’s arrival breathe in respect and hostility, beautifully drifting masses of gold floating amidst the bleeding bricks. They hold their prized rods close to their hearts, telling the warrior that she will have to earn what she seeks.

So earn it she does. Unlike most fortresses, it does not take long for her to acquire the seven rods she needs, but she grabs a few more in case she feels like brewing potions when she gets home. She thanks the merciful drop rate that the spawner allowed her to have as she leaves, taking her water and cauldron with her back to the Overworld, and leaving behind the empty, terrible fortress.

**Author's Note:**

> Review and kudos are appreciated, and critique is encouraged.


End file.
